


The Sixth Blight- Prologue- The Gathering Storm

by BelleWrites (sunleyemrys)



Series: The Sixth Blight RP [8]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: AU, OC, Role-Playing Game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-24
Updated: 2018-08-24
Packaged: 2019-07-02 02:36:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15787215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunleyemrys/pseuds/BelleWrites
Summary: Big ass project to turn the collaborative role play writing I've been doing with a group of friends into a cohesive story. Some things will be edited from the original posts.. but this is largely just cleaning it up and putting everything in order. Each major plot point will be its own post with chapters. Hopefully the story will make sense.





	1. Chapter 1

After a short rest Gwyn woke from his position near the qunari, the boy was still sleeping. He went over and shook his good shoulder, waking him. The mages dreams had been uneasy and fitful, even as he woke he was listless and didn't say a word. Gwyn turned around to rouse the rest of their small group and was met with Andie and Tiberius. No! Andie and the snake! Sleeping together!

A quiet storm built inside him, he was way to comfortable with her and more importantly she was to comfortable with him! She was in the circle her entire life, Maker willing she hasn't seen how men will say and do anything to get what they want. Even the nice ones could turn nasty in an instant, he liked Tiberius but he didn't know him. Didn't know what life he had, what he would do. It made Gwyn nervous, his mind wandered to just a few weeks ago, to before he had left to aid the wardens. The horror he had walked in on between a vile man and a helpless girl, a girl Andryanna’s age. Maker he didn't want that to happen to her, he couldn't stand to look into listless and broken eyes again.

He walked over to the pair, giving Tiberius a nudge with his foot. He woke, looking up at Gwyn looming over him, like a dark and angry shadow. Gwyn gave him such an icy stare he could almost feel the ruin getting colder. “Get on the horse. We move in five.” he said it with no emotion, no anger, just with his huge great sword closer to the Vint’s head that was probably comfortable. He walked away, getting everyone's else up and ready to go, even walking out to the look out at the front of the ruin to tell him they were going. The storm had passed and there were no signs of trouble, thank the Maker. The time was just past mid-day, with luck they would make it back at sun down.

Giving a quick look around he saw that the people who he had given his armor to were attaching it to their packs. Good they hadn't forgotten, it was nice armor and he didn't want to lose it. He grabbed an old bit of cloth he found on the floor, shook it out sending dust flying and wrapped it around his head covering his face to protect it from the sun and sand. The burn he had gotten wasn't as bad as he thought it would be and he aimed to keep it that way. He gracefully hopped back onto the brown horse and scooched up as far as he could to make room for Tiberius in the back. Fortunately, Gwyn’s frame was a lot smaller than his armor implied. He sat there and waited for the boy, brooding quietly.

Tiberius stared up at the horse and its angry, broody, pale rider. What a change, from dozing comfortably next to a pretty mage...to this. He felt the familiar panic rising in his throat as the horse shifted and stamped. Cursed creature could mash him into a pulp in a moment's notice with those blocky hooves. And the horse may have been the least of his concerns, given the dangerous looks he'd been getting from Gwyn. Evidently the closer he became to Andie, the more he became a persona non grata to Gwyn.

He clenched his jaw and took the hand Gwyn offered to pull him up. He settled himself again on the saddle, doing what he could to steady himself with the straps on the horse's tack. They were looking at a miserable ride again, towards another verbal lashing or worse. Tiberius sighed unhappily.

***

Andryanna felt chilled, the warmth of Tiberius no longer next to her. She blinked sleepily and looked around. “Oh time to leave.” She muttered to herself getting up and looking for Iskander.

She assumed she would be riding back with him at least.

***

Iskander feigned his yawn after the Templar woke him up, in a rather uncalled, crude manner. Lucky for him, Iskander managed to calm his nerves in split second before he could sweep kick The Mage Hunter then strangle him, or thrust a crossbow bolt he hid beneath his makeshift pillow into the man's throat. It seemed he couldn't get rid of these habits that easy. Not when he still probably has to go the demon's playground in the future. He always had a love-hate relationship with that happy little chaotic of a jungle called Seheron.

Grace was so eager to get out Iskander had to hold the harness tighter than he should. Once the big girl slowed her pace, One Eyed Jackal gently stroke the mare's mane and neck before jumped on her back. He felt an eyesight upon him and it was Andryanna. Iskander smirked and beckoned.

"Kept you waiting, huh?" One Eyed Jackal said as reach his pocket for elfroot. They were still fresh enough so Iskander put them in his mouth. The cool, watery, and subtle sweet taste sharpened his mind and mood. "Alright, take my hand. Don't be shy."

***

It was an all but sleepless night. The not-so-distant shrieks caused her to jump too many times, her bow was string and had an arrow nocked at all times. She didn't remember when she fell asleep, but none-the-less she awoke with a start, bow tense at a puzzled man; one of Iskander's. Devil dogs or some shite. Minne's head ached and her skin burned from the sun's kiss. Groaning, she stood shakily with a grumbling stomach.

"I don't suppose we have any food....meatless, if you've got it." As hungry as she was. she was happy the memories of cooking darkspawn could no longer pull anything out of her empty stomach, but she still couldn't push the texture back. "Not today."

***

The words echoed themselves deep in Katari’s subconscious. He’d heard that the Fade harboured several dangers, especially to mages. Yet this apparition didn’t seem dangerous.

He silently cursed. If only Gwyn had let him sleep a little bit more, maybe he could have learned more. Instead, Katari woke up with the Templar rudely shaking him. Though he wasn’t hungry, he’d found a stale slab of bread next to him when he awoke, likely left by the healer who tended to him.

He saw the healer packing his equipment on a small pony. Only a small shoulder bag, but the desert had the tendency to make any weight feel 10 times heavier. On seeing Katari staring at him, the healer held up a similar looking slice of bread.

“Eat up!”

Maker. This healer must have really been committed to ensuring Katari’s comfort.

Likely the least he thinks he can do for me, given the arm.

His arm, or rather his stump, still ached. The healer had given him a potion to ease the pain, but Katari still felt dull shocks where his arm was once attached.

The Wardens were moving soon now that the storm had passed. They’d be returning to Weisshaupt to face judgement for their haste. The other Wardens seemed displeased that the recruits had foolishly run off, but now that time had passed, Katari felt assured that he had done the right thing.

Any punishment the Wardens gave would pale in comparison to ensuring Minne’s safety. Katari held the bread in his hand.

Minne probably hasn’t eaten in a while.

He looked around. Sure enough, he soon found the small elf looking particularly miserable. She looked as though she hadn’t slept all night. Understandable, given the circumstances. As he made his way over, he slowly broke the pieces of the crust off the bread he’d been given.

“Here, Minne. You probably haven’t eaten in a while and you need this more than I do.”

He stared at the horses. Several riders were already mounted, and it seemed that it was getting to be time to leave.

“I doubt they’ll let us ride together. But how are you feeling? You’ve been through a lot the past few days.”

"Bloody peachy." She said, baring her teeth in an over-the-top fake smile. "Thanks for asking." she tried to clear her throat but struggled with the dryness.

"I mean it. Thanks. I was stupid, when I got stuck. And it cost you of all people. I don't know if I can make it up to you, Katari, but I swear to everything that I won't stop trying. You're good at heart. Good where it counts." She took a bite of the stale bread, thankful for the missing hard, jagged crust. "Considerate, too. But them." she gestured to the mage girl and the vint.

"They didn't come to help a warden. At least that's not what's on their mind now. Look at us; we couldn't fight off a Hurlock between the two of us as it stands. And they don't care. Been groping each-other through the night like horny fucking teenagers." She turned back to Kat, trying hard to force down the displeasure on her face. "Look at me, Katari. I might not be all there right now, and I've only got my suspicions, but don't. Your duty as a Warden comes first. We're a family, and you can't be picking favourites or getting distracted. * In Peace, Vigilance*. Now help me to my horse; I don't trust any of them."

 “You’re too harsh, Minne. They came to help a fellow Warden. I asked them to come.”

Katari searched for the horse he had seen Minne placed on before. He found a small grey horse, saddled and ready to ride.

He gently helped her up to the saddle, allowing her to support herself on his arm. Pain shot through the joint on his other shoulder at the strain.

“Maybe I’m not ready for so much work quite yet. But don’t worry about me, I know what being a Warden is. And this arm business isn’t anything you need to worry about. I’m glad it happened to me and not someone else. Like you. No way you could work that bow if you were missing ol’ lefty.”

A tap on Katari’s shoulder broke the conversation. He saw the healer from before looking quite displeased.

“First, you don’t wait by the horses. Then, you give your bread away. Maker, Kata, would you let your arm heal? Cmon, we gotta get ya on your horse.”

Katari turned to Minne, shooting her a friendly glance.

“Looks like I need to go. But we’ll catch up at Weisshaupt.”

***

Once Tiberius was up he turned the horse and pushed it to a light trot. He was almost tempted to punish the lad by making the ride difficult, maybe making the stallion rear up; but no. He had a genuine fear of horses, it might be a silly fear, but it was a fear nonetheless and it would be cruel to punish him this way. Andryanna appeared to be riding with that mercenary again, earlier he had gotten a jolt from the base of his neck when he woke the man. This was usually his instincts telling him he was in danger, something he has grown to listen to over the years. He didn't like her being over there with him but what choice did he have and besides the man didn't seem to like getting too close to fights considering the condition of his clothing. He could at least be sure the man wouldn't throw her and himself into the thick of it if something went wrong.

Once everyone was ready to go, the small party began their journey back to the Grey Warden fortress. Gwyn was not looking forward to going back, normally when he returned from a mission he would be eager to come back to the circle but now. Now it felt like he had a collar on, a leash. With the templars they let him have free rein, they expected him to do this duty and nothing more. He could get his assignment and go, he was never trapped anywhere. They wanted this to be a brotherhood, but Gwyn couldn't see it, couldn’t fathom it. Would they let him go out and slay darkspawn? Isn't that what Grey Wardens do? Or would it be like an army where he was only permitted to follow orders? He thought the Wardens were better than that but he would see in the days to come.

He exited the cave into the bright light of day, he pulled the scaf tighter around his face. He dug his heels into the horse’s side and it began to quicken it pace to a gallop. He matched the pace of the other riders, making the ride as smooth as he could manage for his stiff and nervous passenger.


	2. Chapter 2

The pale, dusty walls of Weisshaupt cast long shadows onto the sand dunes by the time the odd band of mercenaries and Wardens made it back. Tiberius was almost deliriously glad, though he could tell the others weren't by the way their conversations faded away. He didn't care about punishment anymore- as far as he was concerned, this ride back was punishment enough. His fingers ached fiercely after spending so long in a death-grip around the straps of the saddlebags. Even worse, he knew his fear was obvious to the mercenaries and Wardens. He'd never earn their respect now, not after showing such stupid cowardice.

There were shouts from the walls as the sentries noticed them, and before long the gate was creaking open. Gwyn urged their horse into a trot as they entered the courtyard. The sharp clopping of hooves on stone was the only sound. The party dismounted as a group, then turned to face the First Warden, who stood at the head of a group of other Wardens. He did not look happy.

The First stood still for a few moments as the group rode up and the expression on his face was enough to sandblast the very age from the walls of Weisshaupt. "Well look at the group who managed to finally stumble back here after, hopefully, having made a very stupid decision while drunk." He grumbled, a glare setting on his face at the sight of one of his Wardens having returned a little less than whole. "I'd expected some second thoughts, maybe even some broken furniture, but this... This is what I would expect from children trying to sneak out of the keep seeing what the city is like at night, not from those that are supposed to follow after my generation!" His voice wasn't quite at the boom which shook the ground. Yet.

He first pointed to Katari who looked almost ready to fall off the horse with the way he occasionally swayed, but he couldn't blame the young man. "First of all, what in the fuck happened to Katari? Did one of you forget his arm back in the desert, or did it just happen to run off when he wasn't looking? Secondly, none of you thought of water, maybe even a spot of food? There's an entire feast happening in the place you've been sleeping in for weeks! Weeks! Yet none of you thought, for even a single moment, that even taking five seconds to think of grabbing a water skin so you don't die out in the middle of the Anderfels. Not to mention, not even to mention the biggest mistake," he said with a laugh that more was just a vocalization of his frustration than anything else, "you forgot that there's a mighty four of you against who knows how many Darkspawn that are roaming the lands! We've barely got enough men left to garrison the damn fortress, let alone to go searching for the milk of Andraste's fucking teats in the middle of the night! By the Maker!" He finally yelled out, the anger leaving him as soon as he was finished with his tirade.

The First was tired, today was supposed to be the day he left to go find his death, but here he was having to deal with these children. "I'm too old for this, Andraste. Too. Fucking. Old." He groaned to himself in a low voice, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. "In any case, I'm just glad that all of you are back here in one piece," The First looked to Katari, "or as close to it as you all could manage. We've got waterskins here for you and food for your stomachs, as well. We'll not have the men to spare like we do with that mercenary here if you lot go running off again." The First motioned for the gathered Wardens to go and deliver the much-needed water to both man and beast alike.

"But don't any of you think that you'll get off with just a little spank on the ass, because each and every one of you are here to serve Thedas. That means following orders and not risking your hides over something idiotic. What if one of you was the difference between slaying the Archdemon or watching as you birth hordes of Darkspawn to consume the world? Think! Each of you will be facing garrison duty only and are going to be stuck with a senior Warden at all times, until further notice this will be your new existence. You will eat, breathe and shit watching these walls until you've memorized every nook and cranny of the landscape around Weisshaupt. Dismissed." With his judgement rendered The First grabbed a waterskin and took a healthy chug as he walked towards the training yard.

Garrison duty and a nursemaid? Tiberius could live with that. None of the Wardens approached their little group to tell them where or when to stand guard, so Tiberius shrugged and trailed behind the others who trudged wearily into the keep. Now that the adrenaline had worn off, his body was reminding him of the punishment he'd just put it through. He had only one goal at the moment. He and Andie entered the Great Hall together, but while she simply grabbed a nearby flagon and stomped away, Tiberius headed straight for the kitchen doors. There were still grease stains on the floor from where he'd tripped the man with the roast lamb, back at the beginning of their ill-advised adventure.

The barrel-chested chef's balding pate reflected the light of the hearth fires. The man wiped his forehead and scowled but handed him a bowl of the previous night's stew they'd kept simmering and half a loaf of bread. Tiberius retreated to the Great Hall and tucked in.

"Well, that's a fine reward for running away after your Joining, Vint." Tiberius jumped and craned his neck over his shoulder. He'd been so engrossed in his meal that he hadn't even heard the dwarven woman hop up on the table behind him. He was forced to turn awkwardly to look at her, though he made sure to keep his bread close. The woman was tanned, with brunette ringlets and crow's feet around her eyes. She leaned back on her elbows, idly spinning her dagger on the table with flicks of her fingers.

"I take it you're my chaperone?" Tiberius said, mouth full of bread. The corners of the woman's mouth turned down as if she were hiding a smirk.

"Seems so, boy. You can call me Rhita or ser, up to you. We're going to be spending a lot of quality time together." The way she said that did not reassure Tiberius. Rhita's relaxed posture hid tension, and although she smiled openly now it was a dangerous sort of smile. Perhaps he and his new friends had made a bigger mistake than they realized by sneaking away from the fortress.

Swallowing another chunk of bread, Tiberius replied, "We didn't run away. We thought you Wardens would like to have one of your own back, so we went and fetched her for you. Cleaned up some shrieks while we were at it."

The Warden rolled her eyes. "You're not here to think, boy. You're new here so maybe you haven't heard the creed: In war, victory. In peace, vigilance. In death, sacrifice. If we're going to get to the first part, we can't have fools like you running off on suicide quests. It's our job to protect the world, not sacrifice the lives of many for the chance to save one. If you ever want to pull your head out of your ass, a good way to start would be for you to stop thinking with your brain and just listen to mine."

Shut up, don't think, follow orders... It was all familiar to Tiberius. He should just accept that he was never destined to be anything but a blunt instrument. He should leave the thinking to his betters. Tiberius turned his back on Rhita and bowed his head over the now-tepid stew. He wasn't hungry anymore.

Harris and Katari strode into the now empty Grand Hall, now devoid of anybody except some cooks and a figure slouched over a table. As they passed by this figure, Katari recognized it as Tiberius. Harris continued towards the food, but Katari paused.

“I’ll be here, Harris.”

The two exchanged a glance, and Harris nodded.

“Right. But if you’re not, you’d better hope I find you before the First does. I won’t be five minutes. If you’re gone, there will be hell to pay.”

As Harris walked off, Katari sat across from his friend, and now brother-in-arms. Something seemed to be on his mind, and the legionnaire hadn’t even lifted his head.

“Tiberius? Tiberius, are you okay?”

Tiberius startled again when Katari sat down, lost again in his own little world. “Hmm? Oh, fine. Tired I suppose, we didn’t get much sleep out there,” he said, still feeling preoccupied. Rhita had disappeared as silently as she’d appeared. It was a minor relief to him, even if he’d never admit it aloud.

Tiberius gave Katari an appraising look and whistled. “You look like a real Warden, Kat! The robes suit you.” They truly did, with the chainmail-reinforced shoulders giving his already imposing figure the appearance of extra strength. Blue and grey were good colors on him.

 “Yeah, it was rough.”

Katari thought it over. The past few nights had been difficult, and he was glad Tiberius had been there.

“I’ve been meaning to say thanks by the way. And I’m sorry. I got us all into this mess, and now all of us are suffering for it.”

Katari eyed the Tevinter. He was still dressed in his regular clothes...

“Have you not gotten your Warden gear yet? I thought everyone’s Warden supervisor was bringing it to them. You’ve met yours, right?”

Tiberius snorted. “We’ve met. She seems to come and go like a ghost, maybe that’s where she scampered off to. It’s not really my job to wonder.” He heard the dark tone creeping into his voice and tried to quash it. He knew Rhita was right; it was his own decisions that had brought him to this point, not just over the past few days but ever since Seheron. If he was unhappy with his lot now, it was just Andraste trying to teach him humility and obedience and him failing to learn.

He leaned forward and fixed Katari with a stare under furrowed brows. “Kat, don’t beat yourself up over this. We’re all responsible for what happened out there and you’ve more than paid the price for your share of the stupidity. But I’m not one to leave a friend in need when he asks for my help. I’d go out there again if you asked, and that’s my decision.”

 “Yeah, a few Wardens are like that. A lot of them come from less than desirable backgrounds. It’s terrible to say it, but a fair portion of Wardens were criminals before they came here. You catch a name?

Katari sighed. Tiberius was right. He hadn’t forced anybody to go along with him. Yet he still felt responsible for what happened out there, and the fallout back in Weisshaupt.

All they could do now was hope for the best. Maybe someday they wouldn’t have to be tethered to a senior Warden.

Katari glanced over. Harris was still ladling soup into his bowl, carefully ensuring that not a single drop spilled. Even from across the Great Hall, Katari could hear the booming laughter of the Rivaini.

“That’s the one assigned to me. “Harris.” I’ve never seen him before, says he’s been out for a long time. Maker knows what he was doing out there, but I’m his first assignment since returning. Good man though. Like you. Really, I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t been out there in the dunes with me, Tiberius. I’d be dead, or worse. If there’s any way I can make it up to you, don’t hesitate. Unless it’s lifting things, I can’t really do that anymore.”

Tiberius laughed. “How about I do the lifting and you do the ‘picking things off the high shelves,’ sound fair? I’m assigned to Rhita, she’s a dwarf with eyes like ice chips. Know her?” His eyes flicked across the hall to where the Warden who’d entered with Katari stood filling bowls of soup. He seemed a jovial fellow, joking with the small group of Wardens who’d trickled into the hall.

“I’ve got to be honest. I don’t mind a little wall duty, it’s the nurse maids that will be the biggest pain. Sounds like you’ve lucked out though.”

He thought about what Katari said, about some Wardens being criminals. The man didn’t know how right he was, at least about Tiberius. He knew it was more of his own cowardice, but he didn’t want to relieve Kat of that notion. It was nice to be known as a good man.

***

After making sure his camp was in place and removed his armor pieces and weapons that he could not conceal, Iskander entered Weisshaupt's great hall, hoping for someone with a loose tongue or a moment of peace. His lucky golden coin placed between his fingers as Iskander passed through the door. That young man, Tiberius Valerian was sitting with Katari, Qunari with amputated arm who had recovered quite fast, but then again, Qunari's endurance was greater than other races. Iskander's boots spurs made a soft metallic noise at every step, but those in the hall was seemly distracted.

Curiosity and confusion writ on the legionnaire's face, and Iskander could not blame the young man.

One Eyed Jackal continued walking and practicing a coin trick in order to conceal that he was also observing Emissary Nerva and his companion. Though Iskander did not know them personally, it was unusual of them to act intimately in public. Iskander knew he missed something, but he will find out eventually.

Iskander had heard of Nerva's reputation, or rather a rumor about the man's deed; the man's force razed a Qunari forward base which housed several Seraabas to the ground without significant casualties, with no back up. A ruthless man with sense of duty, perfect Tevinter material. Why his house and Imperium elites 'gave' such an individual to the Grey Warden was still a puzzle Iskander had to solve. Surely, the Imperium could possibly flood the Order with potential recruits from low class citizens. From what Iskander had seen in Seheron, most Magisters who was assigned as commanders usually shared the same method; throwing a wave after waves of legionnaires at the Qunari so the Oxmen would drown in blood.

Then Nerva lashed at Valerian as joy faded from his face, instinct told Iskander they knew each other, or at least met before joining the Wardens. Looks like I'm not the only one with secrets. Though I believe yours is a rather...sensitive one, Nerva.

"There you are, Valerian." He called the legionnaire. "Good to see you in a peaceful circumstance, gentlemen. Mind if I fancy a nice spot nearby?"

He could feel eyes on him as he made his way to the mess hall. He knew he couldn't lose the senior warden even if he tried to, he couldn't even hear the antivian moving behind him. Despite having the personality of a narcissistic peacock, he was obviously a skilled individual. Maybe if he went to a more crowded area the man would find someone else to pester.

He burst into the room, causing a few heads to turn. He scanned the area, could he just sit down with strangers? Was that ok? People did that right, to make friends? The mercenary had done it before in the cave, yes that's what he would do. Or that was his plan until he saw familiar faces. Tiberius and Katari!

He rushed over to the food table and grabbed a large helping of soup and a bit of bread before charging over to the table the boy was at. The mercenary was over there to, without asking he quickly sat down across from Tiberius, interrupting whatever the mercenary was saying.

“Hello Tiberius! How are you this fine day? How is your arm? Good! That's great!” he fumbled out his greeting with little grace and slumped his shoulders down, trying to blend in with the other wardens. He couldn't see the man but that didn't mean he wasn't there. “You there! Sit down with us! The more the merrier!” he told the mercenary with fake cheer in his voice, signaling for him to take a seat. Safety in numbers.

Suddenly he saw the man, out of the corner of his eye and worst yet he was heading right for him. Maker no! The man stridden up with a confident strut. “Ser Gwyn, there you are. I thought I lost you for a moment” he gave him a cheeky wink. What a liar he hadn't lost Gwyn for even a second. Another warden called out from a few tables over “The cat found himself a new mouse to play with! Gregor your free lad!” another person shouted from one table over “Thank the Maker!” a laugh among some of the wardens sounded out. Was this a game after all? Or some kind of joke? Worst yet Gwyn found himself the punchline of it. Gwyn slumped his shoulders, removed his helmet and rubbed his temples, he could feel a headache starting. “So…..how is your punishment going you two?” he asked with a mumble as the warden took a seat beside him, with smug look on his face.

He was saved by a crowd thundering up to his table, first Iskander who shoved a hand into his for a handshake, and then before he could even think, Gwyn. The man was babbling and hiding like a nervous young girl being pursued by an impatient suitor... and as a suave Antivan sauntered up he could see why. It was so absurd that it startled a laugh out of him.

“How’s your punishment going, you two?” Gwyn mumbled miserably. Tiberius was about to answer when he felt a jab in the small of his back.

“Glad you’ve finished stuffing yourself, boy! Sun’s high in the sky, time for our shift.” Rhita shoved a blue tunic and chain mail shirt into his arms then strode away.

“It’s going like that,” Tiberius said, still chuckling at Gwyn. “Stay sane in here, I’ll see you later on the walls!” He had to trot to catch up with his new keeper. Still, seeing his new friends invigorated him. He couldn’t help the little smile on his lips as they reached the top of the wall and the desert breeze ruffled through his hair. He unbuckled his beaten-up leather breastplate and pulled off his dirty, shredded Tevinter shirt. Then he donned the tunic and chain mail. Finally, Tiberius felt like a real Grey Warden at last.

“And how IS it going for you, Kat? Don’t worry, I won’t be offended if you say you hate it. You must be Gwyn? Heard we got a new Templar,” Harris chimed in from beside Katari. The Qunari and the Rivaini had been silent for a while. Harris had been slurping his soup in a particularly animalistic fashion, as though he hadn’t eaten for weeks. Bits of meat were caught in his moustache, plopping unceremoniously onto the table.

“Well, Harris is actually quite nice. I don’t think it’s that bad,” Katari chimed in. He still felt remorseful that Gwyn and Tiberius were now expected to guard the wall, especially seeing as how Tiberius apparently had Rhita. Katari had heard talk about her. Tiberius would have his hands full, it seems.

“Maker, Katari. You’re gonna leave lipstick marks on my arse if you keep that up. Fernando, can you believe these two? Don’t make Wardens the proper way anymore. No grit, just flowers,” Harris added. He pat Katari on the shoulder adjacent to his nub. “Course didn’t make this one right at all! Forgot to even give him an arm.”

Katari stared at Gwyn, who was clearly miserable. He mouthed the words “I’m sorry” to him and went back to his soup.

Gwyn watched with a heavy heart as Tiberius left for his patrol on the wall. The Antivian man inched a little closer to him and leaned over to steal his bread. Gwyn shuffled over, away from the man and began eating his soup. He saw Katari mouth something to him….sorry? Why was he sorry? He had a missing arm and was saying sorry to Gwyn?

“What are you sorry about?” he asked the qunari. A puzzled look on his face as he swatted the senior wardens’ hand away.

Katari blushed, now worried about embarrassing Gwyn in front of the Antivan.

“Oh, uh... nothing, don’t worry about it.”

Harris raised his palm to his face.

“Maker. He’s sorry that you have to spend quality time with Fernando because of him. Katari feels right guilty about it, don’t you boy?” He asked, slapping Katari on the back.

“R-Right. I just feel bad that we all need to be watched so carefully now,” Katari muttered to Gwyn. It was clear the former-Templar was miserable, and guilt overwhelmed Katari. Doubly so, as he remembered what had happened with Andie a short period before.

Harris greedily slurped down the last of his soup. “Right. That’s us, professional watchers. You know, once I had to watch an entrance to the deep roads for 5 days straight? Couldn’t take my shittin’ eyes off the thing. Had to ‘keep an eye out for any sign of darkspawn’ while some other Wardens were inside. Course, by the time they got out they looked like the maker-forsaken beasts. And now I’ve got that memory stuck in my mind until the end of time. Hell, maybe even a bit longer. Two rocks on the right side, covering half the entrance. Dull orange glow on the stone. Some strange pulsing coming from inside. All very strange. We all laughed for a good long while afterwards. Damn place was creepy as could be, and we were all a little on edge. Especially them! They’d been stuck in there for five days fighting the bastards.

Katari eyed the senior warden quizzically. Why he was talking about this, he couldn’t understand. He shot a look at Gwyn and shrugged his shoulders. Maybe he was making more sense of this than Katari was.

 “Excuse me Harris, spending time with me is a privilege, nay, a gift even. Anyone would be lucky to spend time with me. Besides, we are getting along great, isn't that right my bella luna?” he smiled showing off sharp, white canine teeth. Gwyn was starting to think this man was recruited from a jail cell before a hanging. Gwyn wished he was still a templar, so he could show the man exactly how well they were getting along. He clenched his fist, Harris’s story was meant to make him feel better, that he would laugh at this later but for now he was just angry. He still didn't really understand why Katari blamed himself for Fernando, he didn't assign him to Gwyn.

“Katari. I will say this once. You are not to blame for what happened. You can twist it however you want in your head, we are adults and you didn't make us do anything and I certainly don't regret going….even if I must endure…..him.” the subject of Gwyn's venom was currently studying his fingernails, not listening.

Fernando signed, clearly bored “Harris is such a bore, he's just so…...nice all the time and no fun” his grin returned however “did you two know that as a warden you boy will have a higher, constitution, than most” he wiggled his eyebrows in a playful way. Finally, the man said something useful “So you can last longer? Or just go harder?” Gwyn wanted to know, an edge in battle could make all the difference. The man nearly choked on the bread he was eating because he was laughing so hard.

Valerian face reddened but as soon as he saw a company, young man's demeanor relaxed and back to normal. Seemed like he already adapted or merely accepted his fate. Also, a bad blood between two men.

"Don't mind me, I'm just a guest and The First was being a good host." He sits down. Gwyn who asked him to join was quite twitchy, contrast to what Iskander had known. "Excuse me, lad. You are Katari, am I correct? I see your wound have recovered quite well, thanks to the healer and my timely rescue, no less. Don't get me wrong, big guy. Just want to check if you lot are doing well. Looks like you are already in good hands. Pardon me, sir Templar....Your name is Gwyn, right? Maker, where are my manners. Good for the Warden to have a warrior of the Maker among their rank." Iskander eyed a senior Warden next to Gwyn. With that attitude, he could tell exactly where the man was from.

What a colorful character, even for an Antivan. "And you must be sir knight's handler that The First was talking about. It's a long way from Antiva, don't you think?"


	3. Chapter 3

Andryanna could feel the tears building up in her eyes at the First Warden lectured them, she sniffled ducking her head to wipe at her face before attempting to look at any of the others.

She was mad and upset and a lot she things didnt want to deal with kept bubbling to the surface. After he dismissed them she spun on her heel and marched into the keep, stopping in the Great Hall for the strongest alcohol she could find not caring that it was really too early to be drinking, or that she had never really had alcohol before.

Andie slammed the door shut on her quarters, tossing her gear down. She was filthy, and a bath should have been the first item on her list, but no. She sank to the floor, taking a drink from the flagon of wine, wincing at the taste.

"Here until I die. From one cage to another." She muttered, swallowing more of the wine but barely feeling the effects.

Once the flagon was empty, she threw it against the wall, watching the shattered pieces clatter to the floor, finally allowing herself to truly cry. Quiet sobs as she curled into herself. Feeling just as alone and scared as when Nickalaus had died all those years ago.

***

Dismissed from the First Warden, Katari headed straight for his room. He needed to be alone at the moment. Every moment out after they had found Minne had made him feel as if he were going to break down. He walked the familiar halls, disgraced. Eventually, he found his way to his room.

Finally, alone, Katari allowed himself to be weak. Tears streamed down his face, as he finally felt searing hot pain burning in his stump. It was as though his arm had been dipped in molten lava, and he was powerless to remove it.

What was worst was that he knew it was a consequence of his own action.

Careless.

Stupid.

Idiot

The despair gave way to something else. Katari began to feel incredibly angry at himself. His room became a maelstrom of devastation as he began to toss things about the room. His pack; his staff; the pillows. Releasing this pain was good for him, but it didn’t feel like enough.

His eyes fell on the bed. The wooden frame was heavy but flipping it would help Katari — he was sure of it. Moving it at all with one arm was difficult enough, but it was a human-sized bed. The less it moved, the angrier Katari got. Eventually, he was able to flip it. This physical exertion was extremely cathartic. Already, he felt better. He heard a door slam down the hall and was reminded that he wasn’t the only one suffering because of what he’d done.

Its your fault. Now everyone is stuck on guard duty for something you did.

Despite his anger, he couldn’t help but chuckle. He was being subjected indescribable pain, and yet he felt worse that others were suffering because of him.

A soothing presence overcame him. It felt as though someone was there and was reassuring him even though he was alone. His anger subsided, and he stood quietly reflecting on the broken state he had left his room in. Things were strewn about the room, there was dust floating all about, and the bed was flipped.

Maker, someone’s going to be upset.

As he stood there viewing the scene, he heard a loud crash swiftly followed by faded sobs from down the hall. He poked his head out but saw that the hall was empty. The sobbing seemed to come from a few doors down, and Katari slunk out of his room.

Surely the Wardens don’t want us out of our rooms anymore.

Standing outside the door, he could hear the telltale sobs of a woman crying. He softly knocked at the door. Hearing no response, he slowly creaked it open. Inside, he saw the familiar face of Andryanna, now coated in tears, slumped down against the wall. At the far end of the room, he saw broken pieces of what seemed like pewter. No words needed to be said, Katari understood.

He sat himself down beside her, wrapping his arm around her. The pain the two of them were in needed to be felt. That didn’t mean they needed to feel it alone. Katari sat there, holding her as the two of them cried deeply.

The sudden arm across her shoulders made her jump, a quick glance reveling Katari. They both cried quietly for a few minutes, her sobs turning into slight hiccups.

"Maker, we're a mess. Arent we?" She finally asked, wiping her face on her dirty sleeve. "Some Warden I'll be. I cry every time someone yells at me." She shook her head, "Drank a whole thing of wine, and I feel nothing. I've never even had wine before. It didnt even taste that good."

Andie gave a bitter chuckle. "Never left the Circle, never joined anything, never had wine. Never even..." She paused, looking at Katari, blushing deeply. "Never even kissed another person."

Screw it, her mind screamed. Going to die from the Taint or darkspawn.

She grabbed the front of Katari's shirt and pressed her lips against his.

At first Katari was surprised by the kiss. Not in a bad way, just surprised. A moment had to pass before he realized what was happening and kissed her in turn. Her lips were soft against his, like two silken pillows. Kissing her made everything feel like it would be okay — like his arm was fully healed and the darkspawn were safely on the other side of Thedas.

Katari wanted nothing more than to keep kissing her. As the two pulled away, he felt his mind screaming at him.

Kiss her again.

And so, he did. Trying to match her gentleness, he eased himself into the kiss. He hoped that this would be the first of many, and that each brought with it this same elation.

And, unfortunately and all too soon, he remembered what Minne had said in the desert. About Tiberius and Andie, and about being a Warden.

Reluctantly, he pulled back and stared at Andie’s soft face. She and him had shared something special, and he would never forget it. But he couldn’t do this.

“I-I’m sorry. I thought you and Tiberius were—.”

He sighed. As much as he desperately wanted her to be wrong, he knew Minne was right. Being a Warden meant sacrifices, and this must be one of them.

“We’re Wardens. We can’t have distractions like this. And I can’t get in the way of you and Tiberius, no matter how much I want to.”

He moved to leave, but very quickly sat back down beside her. He couldn’t deny it. Sacrificing this wouldn’t make him happy, and right now that was what he needed. Maybe Minne was wrong.

Gently brushing her hair out of her face, Katari kissed her again like he would never see tomorrow. Surely one night couldn’t cause any harm?

Her and Tiberius? Andie's mind raced. Her and Tiberius?! Her and Tiberius?! Oh, them asleep in the cave together. Katari must have seen that.

Oh.

Oh no.

She leaned into his kiss, her chest aching. "Katari, I... I'm sorry. I didnt know. I'm being foolish and impulsive." She buried her face into his neck. "I dont know what being Warden means. Hell, I barely know what being outside of the Circle means."

Andie bolted up suddenly, knocking her head on one of his horns. "Oh sweet blessed Andraste! Katari!" She grabbed his shoulders. "I am a huge fuck up. Huge! Dont tell Ser Gwyn about this. Though, somehow, hes going to tell." She rubbed the back of her head. "Hes going to know. He always knows."

She stopped, looking down and noticing that she was now straddled across his lap. "Oh, uh. um." She scrambled off, her heel catching on the back of her robes, sending Andie tumbling backwards with a crash.

The sight of the circle mage falling brought about a chuckle from Katari. He couldn’t deny that Andie was cute. The humour quickly turned into concern however, as Andie was clearly not in the best mindset right now, and it seemed the wine was finally getting to her.

He stood up, rushing towards her and pulling her up with his one arm.

“Are you okay? I’m sorry”

As he pulled her up pain began to shoot up through his stump once again, eliciting a groan from the Qunari, as he fell and joined Andie on the floor.

Maker I cant even do this anymore.

He couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. Losing his arm would mean he couldn’t do several things he wanted to do. He couldn’t use a staff as effectively, couldn’t be as effective of a Warden. No matter what he did, he would always be missing a part of himself. Could never be could enough for others, like Andie.

“You’re not a fuck up. I promise you that, you’re not a fuck up. So much shit goes wrong out here and with the Wardens and... Maker. I’m sorry. But before everyone else arrived, the darkspawn did. Snuck in with some disguises, Maker knows where they got them. We...I lost someone. A Former Templar. Watched as a hurlock tore him to shreds. There was blood everywhere. And now I lost my arm and it feels like I can’t do anything right.”

He hadn’t noticed, but his hand had reached down to Andie’s. His Palms dwarfed hers, but he held her firmly. He didn’t want this moment to end too fast.

Andie was able to roll out of the way of the giant Qunari in time, but they still managed to end up in a heap together, his large hand holding hers.

"Andraste. Katari, thats awful." She sighed, leaning against him.

"So, here we are. Two mages. Complete fuck ups." She looked at his stump. "It still hurts. Like a lot. Doesnt it?"

She climbed to her feet, holding out a hand for Katari to grab. "Come on. Someone is bound to be looking for us, and I really dont it to be Thedas's nosiest Templar."

Andie grinned, wrinkling her nose. "Plus, we both really need baths." She blushed. "Separate baths, I mean. Uh, not that, you arent. Not that I'm not." She sighed heavily. "I'm going to shut up now and go see the quartermaster for new robes or something."

***

Andryanna emerged from the baths cleaner than she had felt in days, the simple robes she had been wearing were a lost cause, so carefully wrapped in a spare shirt and skirt she made her way to see the Quartermaster for something serviceable.

"Excuse me?" She approached a mountain of a man swinging a hammer carefully. "Are you the quartermaster? I need armor or robes, or something." He grunted and kept his eyes on his work. "I'm a mage, so nothing too heavy. Please?"

He put down his hammer and turned slowly to take her in. His eyes rolled slightly in exasperation before pointing to a cupboard in a far corner. "Mage."

He turned back to his work, the hammer falling in steady beats. "Right. Okay then." She opened the cabinet doors to see dusty blue and silver garments hanging haphazardly.

Andie began pulling out pieces, examining them, holding some up to herself to judge the fit. "No, not that one. Or that one. Maker's breath, are all warden's so tall?"

The hammer stopped with a clang and heavy footsteps came up behind her. "No. Here." The quartermaster pushed her aside gently and pulled out from the furthest corner armor that Andie could tell by looking would fit.

"Thank you!" She took it from his hands. Feeling the slight weight of it. The piece was an older style scale mail and leather. Light enough to not effect her spellcasting, but strong enough to deflect a slash.

She stopped and stared, "pants. This armor has pants. You sure its for a female mage?"

The quartermaster actually rolled his eyes this time, grunting an affirmative. He pointed to a small curtained area, so she could get changed. "Thank you Ser!" She patted his arm smiling, quickly hopping behind the curtain as he went back to work.

After a few miss-tries with some of the buckles, Andie emerged feeling like a Warden finally. "This is amazing. How much do I owe you? Or do I pay for it? I dont understand how this works."

He sighed, "No pay. Go guard." He made a shooing motion with his hands.

Andie practically skipped out, heading to her room to grab her staff, but stopped short, poking her head back in. "Do you have any bladed staves? Something that can channel magic but also stab things?"

The Quartermaster grinned, pointing at the row of staves leaning against a wall.

"Excellent." She took a moment to feel each one, not wanting to grab one that may not be compatible with her spell casting. "Oh, you are nice." She murmured, selecting one finally and attaching it to her back.

"Thanks again!" She waved at him, but he stopped her, pointing at her head. "Hair."

Oh, right, her hair was loose and getting everywhere. Andryanna quickly braided her locks, earning a pleased nod from the gruff man.

"Now to find out who my babysitter is." She pondered but then her stomach growled. "Maybe after some food." She headed off toward the kitchens in search of a meal.

***

Rahmir Dalke was an older warden. Gruff, big, and direct. He didn't so much mind his new assignment; just means it'd give him some company on his patrols. What they didn't tell him was what, exactly, the girl looked like. His battle-wrought instincts told him that the young girl might be hungry in the morning, and so went to the kitchen. Nodding to himself, triumphant, he stroked his thick beard and entered the mess hall. He took in a large breath, cupped his big hands around his mouth, and bellowed. "Andryanna of Hossberg?"

Andie flinched, spilling a bit of her water. "By Andraste." She muttered, looking up at the voice and seeing the older warden. "Over here" She waved her fork at him, forcing herself to stand from the bench she had been sitting on.

"No need to yell." She sat back down and continued eating. "I'll be done in a moment. I had forgotten how nice warm food is."

He moved with heavy steps, and we he sat the bench groaned with the effort of holding him. "Tell me, little Warden, why am I here?" Of course, he already knew why, but Dalke figured he might use this opportunity to get to know the rookies better.

"Circle mage, Harrowing done early. Spent my time running the Circle's library. When the Wardens asked for aid from the Circle, I was the only person even remotely interested, so I was 'volunteered'. " She shrugged.

"Went with the big group a few days ago, killed some darkspawn. Was told to collect some blood, drank a weird mixture, now I hear voices sometimes." Andie took a breath and another bite of food before continuing.

"Katari, big Qunari mage, total sweetheart. noticed a Senior Warden was missing, so we all kinda, went on a rescue mission?" She trailed off staring at him. "Thats not at all what you were asking.. Was it?"

He looked at her under heavy brows for a long moment, "No." he said. "eat on the way, you are guarding the walls; you do not have the privilege of being late." With that, he hoisted his gigantic form up, to the benches' relief, and waited for his charge, towering over her.

Andie's eyes widened. "Oh, ok. Yes Ser." She grabbed the bit of bread left on her plate and stood latching her staff to her back, looking up at him. "Why is everyone taller than me?"

She took two steps every one of his, struggling to keep up, nibbling on her bread. "So what are we watching today? Expecting new arrivals? Prisoners? Shipment of supplies?"

"We are watching for danger." He said, turning sideways in the hall to let a fellow warden pass by him. "We must be prepared for a blight; if we are not vigilant on our watch than we might let a threat slip by, costing the lives of our comrades." He grumbled, looking down at the girl as he walked. "It is important to understand this, yes?"

"Oh yes, absolutely." She nodded, ducking between him and the other warden. "Its not unlike the Templars watching for abominations among the mages. Or even mages learning to guard themselves from the temptation of the demons."

Andie waggled a finger, affecting a nasally voice, "Be ever watchful for dangers, they come wearing many different faces. To tempt and entice the unobservant."

She smirked, trying to get the stoic man to at least crack a smile. "I've spent my life studying magic and demons. But I dont know a lot about darkspawn and the Blight. Thats a noted gap in my education. One I would like to rectify, if you would be willing to let me use the library here. When, I'm not guarding with you that is." Andie shrugged slightly, "theres probably more than a few crumbly journals and texts written in languages no one here can read, but I probably could. It would be helping."

He frowned deeply at her, the heavy bushes above his eyes drooping in disappointment. Rahmir scolded himself for being too quick to judge her so lightly. "Knowledge is a gift, Andryanna. Your teachers have given you this gift, and you mock them so openly like this... But you did not ask for my advice, apologies." He moved quicker down the hall, his tree-trunk arms pushing the door open, revealing the battlements beyond.

"Is it really mocking if the lecture came from a Chantry sister who wanted me to feel shame for having magic though?" Andie blinked at the brightness through the doors, raising a hand to shield her eyes.

His voice was a low rumble, like distant storm clouds. His voice held a vaguely Rivaini accent, a hint to his past, along with his deep brown skin.

"In my many years, Andryanna, I have learned 3 most important things. First of which is that those who spit venom become snakes, yes?," he said, jabbing a meaty finger at the air near her heart, "One should not harbour such grudges. Many, more ferocious battles there is to face."

She stared down at his finger, scowling. "I try not to carry grudges. But I really dislike it when people try to shame me for something beyond my control."

Andie raised an eyebrow at him, "What are the other 2 important things? And please dont say anything about piety. Much as I believe in the Maker, something got misinterpreted somewhere, cause its just wrong to punish people for an accident of birth."

She sighed shaking her head. "The sisters blamed me for my mother's suicide because I had magic like her. Ignoring the fact that I was taken from her at birth and never met her. Its the only grudge I carry. Mostly."

She walked up the stairs to the battlements, looking around over the barren wastelands.

"I agree. To punish for something to which you have no control is mis-targeted at best. But think of it like this; with my size I would be poor suited as an acrobat. You are a mage, with all the talents and possibilities that opens. You will explore other worlds I will never see. We all have our natural paths." He leaned on the battlements, suddenly seeming much older than his size would suggest, the bright light of the sun showing the deep lines of his face; highlighting the grey in his beard and hair.

Andryanna smiled softly, "you're a funny man." She looked around on the ground, finding a bit of stone, tossing it lightly between her hands.

"So what exactly is sentry duty? Just, walking the wall, lighting signal fires." She paused, thinking. "Paperwork?"

Movement caught her eye, and her jaw dropped. Tiberius. Tiberius not wearing an undershirt as he changed into his Warden gear. He was chiselled, it was the only word that seemed to fit. She could feel her face heating from more than just the sun.

Nope. Nope. Nope Her mind screamed, Andie couldnt face him. Not after seeing that. It confused her too much.

She turned on her heel, and began walking the wall in the opposite direction, away from the chaos Tiberius was causing in her mind.

Rahmir clapped a massive paw on her collarbone, pulling her next to him before she could get away. His eyes didnt stray from the horizon. "Sentry duty means standing sentry. We will stand here, scan the skies and land for approaching opportunities, and do our jobs." His tone wasn't quite threatening, but it wasn't quite friendly either.

Andie's shoulders slumped in defeat and she stood next to Rahmir. Watching everything but the place were Tiberius stood with a strange dwarven woman.

"There arent even birds out here. Or clouds." She said after what felt like a torturous period of time. "I think I saw a spider, but it was some twigs."

Her mind wandered, as did her gaze before finally settling on Tiberius to her realization, her face flushing once again. She coughed slightly, "I'm going to grab some water." She pointed at the small cache of supplies by the stairs about half-way between where she stood and Tiberius.

"Put those thoughts from your mind, Andryanna. That man is your brother now, bound by blood and oath." He said, squinting into the sun. "But you're right; you look as though the sun is getting to you. Grab some water and hurry back."

Tiberius glanced down the wall and spotted Andie making her way to a water barrel and stack of supplies. “May I grab us some water flasks, ser?”

The dwarven woman raised an eyebrow but nodded. “Good idea, boy.” She absentmindedly flipped her dagger.

Tiberius jogged up to Andie with a grin on his face. She was red faced for some reason. He thought he could faintly smell wine on her breath; maybe that was why. He clasped her shoulder as he bent down to fill flasks from the water barrel. “Look at us, proper Wardens at last. Hope your minder is less...” he glanced at Rhita, fearful she might somehow hear him. “Less, ah, intense than mine.” He nodded a greeting to the tall Warden with the mane of graying hair who stood behind Andie.

Andie rolled her eyes as she walked towards the water barrel, seeing Tiberius jog over bringing a smile to her face.

"Hes a little, dour?" She dampened her hands rubbing her face down. "Though, staring out at nothing isnt so bad. The sun burn might kill me though."

She looked down at her feet, suddenly feeling shy. "Soooo, you've been swinging a sword a long time? I just ask because you are in the military and I..." She trailed off, deciding to busy her hands with filling water jugs for herself and Rahmir. "Nevermind. See you for evening meal maybe?"


	4. Chapter 4

Iskander presented himself to The First Warden who still radiated the aura of regality and commanding presence despite his age and worn armor. Alright, the game face is on.

“My lord.” One Eyed Jackal placed his fist on his chest as a gesture of respect. The First Warden was basically an elite noble which technically outranked Iskander. His gesture was natural. “I would like to speak with you. It would only take a few minutes to hear me out.”

“It is a concern about the well-being of myself and my people. The burden of a commander, I believe you understand.” Iskander looked into the old man’s eyes as he was speaking. “I am aware of my awkwardness of my position here. After all, I am but the merely an arm of Ambassadoria, which mean my men and I are guests of the Order, but at the same time, outsiders. But like any concerned citizen, the terror of the darkspawn threat and a rather…vigorous climate makes it quite dangerous to travel from here with a small party, and Weisshaupt is the nearest bastion of security. While I am certain with my people’s ability, it is still risky knowing that how close the danger is, consider what I’ve seen on the last encounter. Since I’ve instructed my people to behave as a good guest and do not interfere the Order’s activity unless we are needed, so allow me to make a small demand. I assure you, my lord, it is a fair proposal.”

Iskander cleared his throat. “Would you kindly allow me and my men to stay within the fortress vicinity and use its basic facilities such as feast hall or bathhouse? Surely, the Order have already provided us with decent hospitality, I am merely asking for the kind treatment for a longer period of time. At least until we are cleared to travel safely, or a new provision caravan arrives. Please, consider my proposal, my lord. I am certain that such a simple agreement can benefits both parties in a long run. After all, my house and the Order had been working together as steadfast allies since the day Dumat himself ravaged this very land.”

A cold grimace settled on the First's face as this noble tried to butter him up with honeyed words and a silver tongue, to boot. He was an old man, however, and his tongue could no longer taste honey nor could his eyes see silver that gleamed in front of him. Often enough his own men had little of precious resources such as food to spare; the new recruits sending the Quartermaster scrambling to scrape together something decent, and they had not the resources to spare to bathe, feed and house another group they were unprepared for. "We've provided you of what we can, or is this house of yours incapable of feeding its own men, hmm?" The First asked.

"You've what, going onto thirty, thirty-five men? Don't tell me that, with all the foresight capable in all the lands, that you have forgotten food and water to feed yourselves and quench your thirst? If you haven't looked lately, the fortress isn't exactly the bastion it once was, not to mention we've not the men to spare to look after an already well-equipped force." The First sighed to himself, he was being too callous in times like these for the already strained relationships that Wardens had.

"You can camp outside the fortress proper, but we've not the beds nor the food for any of your men. I assume your men can manage to cook for themselves, as well? If not, we've not the equipment to spare anything, so they'll either eat the local fauna or starve. I'd offer something, but..." The First's thoughts drifted to the acts of those who came before him and how much they had ruined the trust that the Wardens had built up Blight after Blight. "We simply cannot." He stated, a tone of finality ringing in his words as he began to go about his second daily check of the defenses of Weisshaupt.

"That's all I asked, my lord. Thank you." Iskander smiled. He only needed The First's permission, not trust, and he got it. The old man was clearly skeptical of Iskander's intention but ultimately had no other choice. "Your generosity shall be remembered. Now please, don't let me distract you from your duty." He bowed and made way for The First and his followers.

***

Once the wardens dismissed them Gwyn walked over to the lonely courtyard below his window. He knew there was a barrel of water in the small, shaded training area or he had been using it as a training area at least. He pulled his brown linen gambeson off revealing his white shirt with dried blood caked into it. His neck had bled again on their journey, but he had ignored it and now it was dried in the wound. With one great rip he tore the fabric out causing it to reopen. This was going to be one nasty scar.

He chose to just take the entire thing off, looking around to see if he was alone first. He grabbed a clean cloth and whipped his chest down, giving the bite extra attention. He re-wrapped it and pulled the gambeson back on, he studied the courtyard briefly and saw the broken vase he had thrown in a rage. He picked up all the pieces he could find and wrapped it up the ruined shirt; intending to fix it later. He then saw a glint out of the corner of his eye…..his helmet. It was still there! He went over to it and picked it up, brushing off sand that had collected on it. Thank the Maker he thought he had lost it in his stupidity. It didn't feel right to wear the templar armor anymore, but he could at least wear the helmet.

He returned to the front of the fortress, collected his armor and put it back on. The first warden had ordered them to guard the walls and guard he would. He was shocked that they weren't all executed, they must be more desperate for people than he thought. He didn't like that he had down time to think, he went out with the kids mostly to help them but there was a part of him that was aware how he was running from his problems. Later, he would deal with them later. Something he had told himself many times over the years, it never seemed to happen though. He climbed up to the rampart and looked out into the distance, the warden that was meant to watch him stood beside him. He man seemed to want to say something but for some reason he wasn't. Gwyn hated it when people felt the need to fill silence. So they stood there, awkwardly, watching the vast wasteland in front of them.

Why had the Maker abandoned him?

He stared out into the distance praying the wall would spontaneously collapse and end his misery. They had paired him with the chattiest man in all Thedas, the First Warden had done this on purpose, this was to be the true punishment. After their silent awkward moments in the beginning the man went to go get breakfast for them both and had not shut his mouth since. He was a tall man, taller than Gwyn by a few inches and from Antiva or so he had told Gwyn…..several times already. He had tan skin, dark hair, a trimmed beard and a wide easy smile. He was an archer, or so the arrows and bow he carried indicated.

“Forgive me but we were never properly introduced my friend. My name is Fernando Santangel Francisco Ricardo Maria de la Montoya. What a pleasure it is to meet you.” He gave a flourished bow. Gwyn didn't take his eyes off the horizon “I'm Gwyn”. The antvian smiled “A stoic man then, strong, broody. I like that” he put his hands on his hips and stared off into the distance. “Rarely are men like this back home, but I suppose a hard climate breeds a hard people. But I must say, light features are a pleasant change. Some variation to spice life up yes?” Gwyn kept his attention forward, maybe if he ignored him he would shut up. “When I was assigned to you after your little adventure, I followed you, saw you rip your shirt off. Very impressive physique must have taken a lot of training to get that definition especially with your complexion.” Gwyn's face was hidden but it was beat red all the same, be the bigger person he thought, watch for Darkspawn. He's just testing you, to see if you can control your temper.

“Back in my country I was the Captain of a ship, the Golden Gull. She was a marvelous ship, I miss her a great deal. Maybe one day I will get the chance to sail once more.” he gave Gwyn a sideways look “Maybe I could take you one day to” he stroked his chin casually “Sailing?” Gwyn asked. He pondered for a moment and laughed loudly “Yes that to.”

He continued on like this for what felt like hours but was in truth only a few minutes. The man was obsessed with himself, all he said was how great he was, all he had done and how many women he had…..enjoyed the company of. He had to know Gwyn was from a chantry background and would be uncomfortable with such talk. This was one big test, well Gwyn would pass; he was on to this man's game.

Another warden was approaching them, they were clearly patrolling the wall as well; circling it. Looking for anything that might be trouble. She slowed down as she passed them “Oh Fernando, looks like you found a new victim to torment. Poor Gregor can sleep soundly now.” she laughed loudly, moving passed them “Make sure to lock your doors chantry boy! Or he will get you!” she yelled, waving over her shoulder at the pair.

Gwyn was impressed by this level of detail in their scheme, to get an accomplice in his set up was above and beyond; he would not give in and put the man in his place like he normally would. If the wardens wanted discipline, then he could manage that.

“Ignore her my friend, the sun has fried her brain.” he grabbed a bowl of soup and began to eat it “aren't you going to have some?” Gwyn scoffed a little, and take his helmet off on guard duty? The man must be getting desperate. “No, I will not. I will eat later” he replied, turning and moving down the wall. The senior warden followed him “You know, I heard that you have white hair is that true?” he asked, downing the rest of the soup. “And you have black hair? Is there a point to this line of questioning?” Gwyn grumbled. The mans face lite up. “I have never seen white hair on a human before! Let me see!” before Gwyn could pull away his helmet was yanked from his head by quick hands. “Give that back at once!” he said firmly, in a voice he usually saved for disruptive mages and templars.

“It is true! Look at it! Not blonde but pure white!” the man's voice was filled with glee and a dark look filled his eyes “Such a pretty face to” he purred. Maker! Enough! This game had gone to far! “Sir this is far enough, your game needs to end. I have not lost my temper despite your best efforts, you can try all you like. You won't break me” he was filled with confidence now, he had controlled himself; this was a good step. “A game?” the man looked puzzled for a moment before a huge grin spread on his face “You wish to play hard to get then? If you want a game, I am always ready for one. But be warned….I never lose” he grabbed Gwyn's hand and kissed the top of it.

Gwyn's face was one of shock and horror. Oh no the man had been serious. He had to get away, the man was crazy. He grabbed his hand and helm back from him and pushed past the Antvian, he slammed the helmet back on, covering his bright red face. “Where are you going?” he called after him, amusement in his tone. “I….um….to get breakfast!” he all but ran down the stairs.

Fernando smiled and placed a hand on his chest and utter a small prayer. “Thank you, Maker, for making the pretty ones stupid” he gave chase, he was to follow the templar everywhere after all and was nothing if not professional.


End file.
